


He's Irresistible

by spellwovennight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Circumcision, M/M, architect!Derek, cop!Stiles, protester, references to leverage characters if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 22:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4322970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellwovennight/pseuds/spellwovennight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A happy, fluffy birthday fic for freck.  A bit of a coffeeshop, romcom moment and cop!stiles all rolled into one.  </p><p>Or Where Derek is exited to start his new project and his life gets a little bit more interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's Irresistible

**Author's Note:**

  * For [literaryoblivion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Freck! <3 This was not where I had intended for it to go, but I hope you like it. 
> 
> Lots of love to Mel & Madam M for the beta reads. Especially for correcting my protestor to protester.

Derek wakes before sunrise to get ready for his day.  He has always been a morning person and feels the most productive in the early hours of the day, but five a.m. is early, even for him.  He ends up hurrying through his morning routine, excited to start on his new project.

 He double checks he has all the tools that he might possibly need for the day and heads out.  Sunlight is just starting to filter through the clouds, creating a cotton candy sky.  In a good mood, Derek turns onto Crescent Lane stops at the Crescent Croissants, a coffee shop and bakery.

He settles down at one of the window seats, a plush armchair that is actually as comfortable as it looks, with his hot tiramisu latte.  He sips it slowly, savoring the rich but bitter flavoring of the espresso and the mascarpone and how they contrast with the sweet chocolate powder, and enjoys the peace and quiet in the still slumbering neighborhood as he watches the sky change color.

 The jangling of keys crashing down on a table followed by multiple different thumps and some muttering jerks Derek out of his tranquil gaze.   He whips his head over to see someone sitting in the armchair next to him.  A head of messy brown hair is ducked into a backpack, and the man starts pulling out different colored highlighters, which are thrown on the table.  

The guy sighs as he pulls his head out of the backpack and mutters something about hell dogs and morning rituals.  He’s obviously exhausted, Derek notes, by the dark purple shadows under his eyes.  Even his eyes are blood-shot, which is a shame, Derek thinks.  They look like they’d gleam brightly under normal circumstances.  

As the guy goes to put his backpack down on the ground after pulling out a few different books onto his lap, his right elbow pops out and completely takes out the very large coffee that’s sitting on the table.  On instinct, Derek lunges for it and grabs it just as a few very hot drips hit his hand.  He winces at the burning sensation and quickly rightens the cup.  When he looks up the guy is staring at him, eyes and mouth wide open. 

Derek finds himself staring at the face for a couple seconds too long and awkwardly shoves the drink back in the guy’s direction.

“Man, you’re my hero,” the guy says, clutching the cup gratefully.

Derek’s eyebrows go up at the overstatement, which the guy obviously catches.

“No, seriously,” he continues.  “I need coffee to survive.  It’s in my veins now.  A part of me forever.”  As if to prove his point, he tips his cup back and takes a huge gulp – and immediately starts gasping.  “Hot!  Oh, shit, hot!  Very hot!” He jumps up from his chair.  “I’ll be right back!”

Derek watches him run back to the counter, where he receives a cup of water.  As he downs the water, Derek notices that he’s looking slightly lower than he should be.  He snaps his eyes back up, only to notice the man’s shoulders.  How they’re broad enough to hold some nice strength to them, but lead to a tapering waist

Well, it doesn’t hurt to look, Derek thinks as he takes a sip of his cooling coffee.  Although, he’s glad that he’s looking further up when the guy looks his way as he talks to the barista.  The barista refills his cup with water, and the guy returns to the area.

“I guess I owe you an apology,” he says as he runs his hand through his hair.

Derek stares at him blankly.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your peaceful morning,” he waves his hand over to the window, “watching or whatever you were doing.  I honestly didn’t see you when I came in – like I said, I really need my caffeine in the morning.  I’ll just move elsewhere and not bother you anymore.”

“Don’t,” Derek spits out, and then mentally curses.  “I mean, you don’t have to.  Move or apologize.  It’s fine.”

The guy looks at him dubiously.  “You sure?”

Derek nods and cracks a smile.  “You provided humorous entertainment to my morning.”

The guy slides into his seat and chortles out a laugh.  “Then I’m glad to be of service.  I’m Stiles, by the way.”

Derek’s eyebrows go up again.  He knows they do, he can feel them, but he can’t help it.  What kind of name is Styles?

“Because you’re stylin?” he asks dryly, looking at the faded pair of khakis and well-worn plaid shirt he is wearing.

Stiles quacks out a loud laugh.  “No, dude.  S-T-I-L-E-S.  Nickname from my last name type of thing.”

Derek’s been on his share of basketball teams, he knows too easily how that can happen.  People jokingly called him Hale’s Bells way too often in high school.

“Derek,” he shares, and Stiles absolutely beams.  Derek almost feels blinded by it.

“Yeah?”  Stiles says. “Cool.”

Conversation apparently over, Derek returns to watching sunrise, but he keeps getting distracted.  Stiles haphazardly has his books balanced at the edge of the table, and Derek is waiting for him to knock the whole stack over.  Or his coffee, which is sitting precariously near his elbow.  And Stiles has a highlighter in hand, which he keeps clicking the cap on and off while he flips through the pages of a book he has on his lap.

None of these are bad things, just distracting ones.  Derek’s glad that he doesn’t have to actually concentrate on anything.  He just hopes Stiles doesn’t notice him creepily staring at him.

Stiles finally finds the page he was looking for, and crows under his breath.  Derek struggles not to chuckle loud enough to be heard.  Stiles jams a highlighter into his mouth and pulls the cap off with his teeth, and then starts to read, or rather, highlight obsessively.  It’s only after a few minutes of careful watching that convinces Derek that he is actually absorbing what he’s reading.  The tapping of his fingers weren’t sporadic, but paused when the highlighter stopped and when his eyes narrowed.

The more Stiles read, the more his body relaxed.  The tapping of his fingers weren’t as jerky, but more like sleeping twitches.  Instead of sitting up and intensely staring at his book, his back had relaxed into the chair and his book had settled more comfortably in his lap.  Tried as he might, Derek wasn’t able to see what type of book he was reading.

“What are you studying?” Derek asks.

Stiles’ entire body jerks upward and the cap falls out of his mouth and into his lap.

“Uh?” Stiles blinks intelligently.

Derek bites back a smile.  His sleep-dazed state gets more endearing every second

“Are you a graduate student?” He asks instead.

Stiles mouths the words to himself, before it seems to connect to his brain. “Oh!  No!  I’m not in grad school.”

Derek’s stomach starts to plummet.  Grad students are typically close to his age.  Undergrad – not so much.  That was reaching with how far Derek was comfortable taking an age difference.

“I just like taking classes for fun.”

Derek’s forehead creases.  “What do you mean for fun?”

Stiles snorts.  “Everyone has the same reaction, but dude,” he reaches over and smooths the creases between Derek’s eyebrows. “your eyebrows just went into angry caterpillar mode.”

Derek looks at him in surprise, and Stiles seems to catch what he’s doing and jerks back to his own seat.  “Uh right. I have no sense for personal space, can you tell?  Um, we were talking about. . .Oh right.  There’s always something to learn.  And I don’t really want to get a degree in everything you know.  That’s way too much work.  And too expensive.  And I wouldn’t really use it, BUT I like to always be enrolled in a class.  It’s good to learn things.  Expand your mind, your database and such.  Makes things easier.   Besides, maintaining one class isn’t that hard,” he shoots a glare down at his books.  “Or it shouldn’t be,” he grumbles.

“So, you’re not a student?” Derek says slowly, still not sure if he comprehended all that correctly.

“Nah, I’m a police officer.  And I had the late shift last night, hence the super crappy morning wear.”

Derek’s mind tried to place produced a strange image of Stiles in a uniform, crisp and neat, but with his hair looking like a hedgehog.  Derek wondered what it would take to make the uniform look less professional and more like Stiles’ hair.  Maybe sleeping in it.  Or taking him out of it completely.

“Oh,” is all that Derek manages to say.

“Yup,” Stiles responds.  “What do –“

They both jump to Derek’s phone alarm tooting away.  Derek silences it as quickly as he can.

“Man, I hate that sound.  I used it as my alarm for years.  Even now, hearing it makes me feel like I’m going to puke all over the place.”

“Sorry,” Derek apologizes.  “I have to run.  Enjoy studying – “He trails off, still not sure what the book is about.

“Gender studies,” Stiles says.

“Right, Gender studies,” Derek says faintly.  Does this guy get anymore perfect?  He grabs his coffee and makes his way back to his car in a daze.

 

* * *

 Derek gets to the old office that his firm was hired to help renovate into a new apartment complex.  Derek spends the entire morning walking around and taking pictures of the property.  He tours the outside first, taking note of the windows and how the light is hitting them.  He’s going to keep an eye on the sun and how it affects the building throughout the day.  The inside is old and would need a face lift even if it wasn’t going to be made into an apartment complex.  It looks like it was made in the ‘80s, with cracked yellow worn tiles and still maintained with a furnace system.  Derek has a feeling that they’re going to be working very closely with the engineers on this particular case.  He makes a note to set up a meeting with the engineering company as soon as possible.

He spends the second half of the day sitting outside, doing conceptual sketches.  It’s a good thing the ones he’s doing aren’t really necessary, because he keeps getting distracted by the picture of Stiles sitting in the chair.  However, these sketches don’t take in account much of anything that the client actually wants, but are ones that are based on Derek’s pure whimsical desire.  Tomorrow, he’ll start the real work, but for now he’s content to have fun. 

* * *

 

 It’s a month later and Derek has stopped at Crescent Croissants six times at varying times of day, hoping that just maybe he’ll run into Stiles again, but no such luck.  He’s run through various ideas of somehow staking out the police station and running into him there, but each idea is more absurd that the one before.  And desperate, he reminds himself firmly.

He’s at the office when he gets a call from the apartment complex client to inform him that they have somehow attracted a protester for the renovation.  The client assures him that it won’t be an issue; the protester has nothing to stand on, but just called as courtesy and to be aware when he visits the building.

Derek makes a call to the city to make sure there is no historical importance to the building, because he has learned the hard way not to always trust the clients, especially when they want things done their way.  He’s forced to make a trip to the town hall, but everything checks out, and Derek continues on his plans like normal.

* * *

 

Four months later, and Derek has all but forgotten about Stiles.  He hasn’t seen him since and all of his time has been occupied by the apartment complex renovation.  The client decided that they were willing to pay the extra money and wanted to start building four months earlier than originally planned.  They doubled their team of architects and engineers and had been fighting for a final design since.  They’re about to start construction, which is always the most stressful part of a job to Derek.  There is always something that could go wrong, and much too easy to get off schedule.

Derek heads over to the apartment complex for a final meeting before construction starts with the lead of each company involved.  It’s the last moment to catch any mistakes, mishaps, and complications before they start destroying the building.

He meets Parker, the construction foreman, in the parking lot when he arrives, and they walk in together.

He and the rest of the teams exchange pleasantries before they get down to business.  All in all, it’s a pretty painless meeting.  Derek likes the people and the teams that they were hired to work with.   Everyone has seemed to mesh well together, which isn’t always the case.  They’re going over some of the last details when a blow horn goes off.

“What the hell is that,” Derek grumbles, trying to see out of the window.                                                                                       

Sophia from the engineering team laughs.  “Have you met the protester yet?”

Derek shook his head.  He had lucked out during his past visits.  No crazy protester interrupted his work.

“Oh, he’s a hoot,” Alex says, laughing a little.

“And since you haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him, I think you go out and ask him to be quiet,” Nathan says as he crosses his arms, obviously amused.

Derek glares at his peers and puts his firm face on – his sisters tell him his serious face could scare small children – and goes to confront the protester.

Before Derek even leaves the building, the protester starts yelling through a megaphone, but Derek can’t tell for the life of him what he’s saying.  It just sounds like loud garbled noise to him.

He follows the noise and finds a man with his back to Derek.  There’s something slightly familiar about the man’s frame, but Derek’s distracted by the posters that are all over the ground.  They all seem to have one odd theme: circumcision.

Derek’s brain falters in confusion.   _What?_

He cautiously moves forward, now more prepared for a weirder type of person.  He’s also able to read more of the signs.

SAVE OUR MEN FROM CIRCUMCISION

CIRCUMCISION IS A THING OF THE PAST – THIS BUILDING ISN’T

DON’T IGNORE PROGRESSION – CIRCUMCISION HARMS OUR CHILDREN

OUR PRESENT WILL BECOME OUR PAST

HONOR THE DOCTORS AGAINST CIRCUMCISION

Derek becomes more and more confused as he gets closer to the guy.  He’s only a few steps away when the megaphone starts to feedback and screeches annoyingly high and loud.  Derek and the guy both wince.  Derek covers his ears while the guy drops the megaphone completely causes it to burst into one last horrible noise and then crackles and dies.  At least, Derek hopes it dies.

“Thank god,” Derek mutters and the guy whirls around at the sound of his voice.

Derek’s jaw drops open.  “Stiles?”

Stiles’ face lights up and he looks way too pleased with himself.  “You remember me!”

Suddenly it feels very warm outside to Derek.  He drops his eyes to the ground.  “You’re kinda hard to forget.”

He watches as Stiles’ sneakers move towards him.  “So are you. “

Derek bites his lip as he tries not to smile, but it’s hard.  His eye catches sight of one of the posters, and he remembers why he’s out there in the first place.

“Why are you out here protesting, anyways?” he asks, lifting his head up.

Stiles looks sheepish for about half a second.  “Oh, you heard about that?”

“You used a blow horn and a megaphone.  It’s hard not to.”

“Well, it deserves to be heard.  It’s an important to our society.  And progression.”

Derek looks down at the posters.  “Circumcision is?”

“Yes!” Stiles says, enthused.  “It’s not necessary, it might even be called an unnecessary evil, and it helps prevent the society moving forward!”

“In healthcare?” Derek asks, completely lost.

“In equality!”  Stiles explains with his hands.  “Circumcision is one of the tools that help propel gender separate identities.  We force change on any child that isn’t born completely 100% male or female!  If they have hints as both parts, they’ll chop off the male part.”

“But – that’s not circumcision,” Derek says.  At least, he doesn’t think it is.

“Well, yes and no,” Stiles explains, his energy dropping from full on fight to passionate teacher.  “It’s not in the traditional sense, but there’s not a lot of difference between cutting off the foreskin and getting rid of the penis completely.  Procedurally.  And, when it’s the other way around, getting rid of the clitoris in favor of the male genital, it’s the same as female circumcision or mutilation.”

“Okay,” Derek trails off, failing to see how this is connected to the building.

“Not just okay,” Stiles says, shoving his finger at Derek’s chest.  “This is important!”

Derek places his hands on Stiles’ shoulders, hoping to calm him down.  “I believe you.  Circumcision is bad and not good for our society.  I’ll try to spread the word – if I can figure out how to do it appropriately.  Now how is circumcision linked to the building?”

Stiles deflates slightly under Derek’s steady hands, and he’s much calmer when he starts speaking again.  “Because this building is home to a huge historical moment.  The doctors from this practice refuse to perform circumcisions.  Every single one of them!”

“Wait – why are you talking in the present tense.  I thought you were talking about an important historical event.”

“It will be!  Twenty years from now, people will see how important it is, and we’ll regret it if we destroy the building!”

Derek rubs his hand over his face.  “Let me get this straight.  You don’t want anything to happen to the building because of the practice that used to be here.”

“Uh.” Stiles’ mouth closes in a firm line.  “Yes,” he finally answers, not sounding so sure.

“Wouldn’t it be better use of your time, and to our eardrums, if you try to promote the practice that moved to a better office downtown?”

Stiles opens and closes his mouth a couple of times.  “Well, when you put it like that. . .”

Alex sticks his head out of the building and yells down to them, “Hey!  If you got him to shut up, why don’t you come back to work!”

Derek waves back and turns to smile at Stiles, who is gaping at him.

“You work with them?  You’re one of them?”

“Uh – yes.  And looks like I have to get back to work.” Derek slowly backs away from Stiles as if not to frighten him. 

When he finally turns around to walk forward, Stiles yells out behind him, “You’re just one big cheating, cheater!”

Derek laughs a little and chances a look behind him.  Stiles is standing there with his arms crossed, but he has a smile on his face, so he can’t be too mad.  Derek counts it as a win until he gets back to work and realizes he never did get Stiles’ phone number.

 

* * *

 Construction with the apartment complex is going pretty smoothly.  They’re only a few months in, but no major issues so far.  Derek can’t help  but be disappointed that Stiles the protester hasn’t been around, although he has seen signs around town about circumcision awareness and promoting Dr. Anderson’s practice.  He can only guess who made those.  

He’s heading home from work and moving forward after the stop sign when police sirens light up behind him.  He pulls over to the side, without a thought.  To his surprise, the police car pulls up behind him.  He has no idea why, but he goes ahead and puts his car in park and starts digging through his glove box for his insurance card, just in case.

There’s a knock on the window, and a voice requesting him to exit the vehicle.  Derek pauses in confusion.  From the angle, it’s hard to see the police the officer’s face, but he’s wearing the uniform, so Derek goes ahead and unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of his Camaro.

“What’s this about, officer?” Derek asks, blinking as the sun blinds him when he stands up.

“Oh, I’m afraid you didn’t pause a whole four seconds at the stoplight,” the officer responds cheekily.

Derek grins when he catches sight of Stiles’ face and doesn’t bother hiding how his eyes take in how well Stiles fills in his uniform.  “That’s because the law is three seconds.”

“Oh, is it now?  My mistake,” Stiles says coyly as he steps closer to Derek, trapping him up against the car.

Derek’s eyes drop down to Stiles’ very pink lips.  “You weren’t looking for an excuse to pull me over, were you?”

“Of course not,” Stiles breathes out before bracing his arms on either side of Derek and kissing him.

Derek opens up to him immediately and his hands fall to Stiles’ waist.  Before too long, his hand start to roam, and he finds Stiles’ handcuffs, which only turns him on even more – and Stiles’ actual gun.  Derek pulls back, and Stiles whines.

“Aren’t you going to get in trouble for this?”

Stiles shrugs.  “I’ve been keeping an eye out for your car since I found out who you were.  This is the first time I’ve seen it, and I wasn’t going to let you get away.”

Derek’s heart jumps at that, but he tries to remain reasonable.  “How did you find out what I drove?”

Stiles smirks and leans in. “I know how to do my research,” he says lowly into Derek’s ear

It doesn’t cause Derek to shiver.  At all.  “How did you manage to make that sound dirty?”  He accuses.

Stiles pulls back, still smirking.  “It’s a gift.”

Stiles leans in to kiss him again, but Derek pulls away.

Stiles pouts.

“You’re on duty,” Derek points out.  “You have a loaded gun on you.”

“Oh, you bet I do,” Stiles says, waggling his eyebrows.

Derek groans, but secretly finds it adorable.  “You’re going to get in trouble.”

“Maybe.  My dad’s the sheriff, so I’ll either get into more or less trouble.  And you’re worth a couple of weeks of desk duty.”

Derek’s eyebrows fly up.  “I have a feeling that means a lot coming from you.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Stiles says before kissing him again.  Derek lets him this time.

This time they get interrupted by Stiles’ radio squawking.  Stiles gets to spend the rest of the month on desk duty, and Derek is invited to dinner with Stiles – and his dad.

Dinner is an awkward mix of meet the parents and first date, but the sex afterwards (that night and for the years to follow) most definitely makes up for it.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr and twitter under the same name! Happy Stereking!


End file.
